Work Text:
Shirokuma loved the mornings. He loved rolling out of bed before the sun rose, making himself a pour-over in his own cozy kitchen, and taking a comfortingly familiar walk to the cafe.
He loved the hum of the espresso machine, steam rising in drifting in columns on cold mornings. The rumble of the grinder allowed his thoughts to wander, and there was something so soothing about the methodical procedures of opening the shop.
This morning though, was different. The birds were chirping, the sun was already rising, and Shirokuma had clearly slept through his alarm. When he awoke twenty minutes late, he attempted to jump out of bed but found himself stumbling. Fog filled his head, and he fell into a coughing fit.
He was sick. He couldn't believe it. He'd been sick maybe once in all the years he'd owned the cafe, a nasty stomach bug that he was fairly sure he'd caught from Grizzly, and that was ages ago now.
With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to staying in for the day. The last thing he wanted to do was get their customers sick. He texted Sasako-san to ask her to open the shop in his stead, and before he even got a response, he found himself drifting back to sleep.
-----
Penguin hopped up on the stool, swiveled purposefully to face the counter, and tapped his flipper to get Sasako's attention.
"Cafe mocha!" she chirped with a grin. Penguin huffed a little at his stolen thunder, but nodded in agreement all the same.
In just a few minutes, she brought him back a steaming cup, and Penguin carefully took in the aroma before even looking at it. The perfect blend of chocolate, coffee, and milk! When he opened his eyes, there was a little polar bear smiling up at him, stenciled in cocoa powder onto the foam. He quickly snapped a photo for his blog, positioning his phone carefully to get just the right angle.
He took a big gulp and sighed. After a moment, he blinked out of his cozy coffee haze and looked around.
"Shirokuma makes my mocha," he said while staring at Sasako, who was rinsing out espresso cups by the machine.
"Ah, yeah, he's sick today," she responded.
"Sick?" he asked. "He can't be sick, he always makes my mocha." He was so distracted by the matter at hand, he almost didn't notice Panda wandering through the door.
"Who's sick?" Panda asked, shuffling up to sit beside him.
"Shirokuma," Penguin said.
"He's sick? He can't be sick. He makes my bamboo," Panda responded.
"It's just a cold," Sasako said, "He'll probably be back tomorrow, and I can get your bamboo." She debated about adding that bamboo didn't involve making anything, really, but thought better of damaging Panda's pride.
Panda looked at Sasako, then at Penguin, then back to Sasako, before slapping his little furry paw on the counter.
"I'll take my bamboo to go!" he cried.
-----
It only occurred to Panda after leaving the cafe with Penguin in tow that his "Get Well Soon, Shirokuma" plan would only work if they knew where Shirokuma lived . They saw him so often at the cafe that they never had a real reason to visit his home, and as they wandered around the vague neighborhood they thought he lived near, they realized that this was kind of a fruitless search.
As they passed another cozy residential street for what felt like the hundredth time, Panda sighed dramatically.
"Maybe we should ask someone for directions," he huffed, but as they scanned the streets for a potential guide, the neighborhood looked relatively quiet. Being the middle of the day, most people were out at work, and it seemed rude to just knock on someone's door without knowing them. They waffled for a little while before Penguin had a stroke of genius.
"Oh, wait," Penguin said, clicking through his phone and dialing a number. "I know just who can help us."
-----
Shirokuma rolled over, the sunlight streaming through his bedroom curtains giving him pause. It took him a moment to remember he was sick and had taken the day off. He collected himself slowly, the aches in his muscles and rumble in his chest making getting up difficult.
As soon as he had he sat up in bed and blown his nose, there was a knock at the door. Not the door to his house, but the door to his bedroom. He tensed nervously, his mind jumping to burglars, but then he wondered why a burglar would bother to knock. Much less attempt to rob a polar bear.
"Come in?" he offered hesitantly, his voice croaky from sickness.
Panda and Penguin tumbled into the room, having clearly been pressed close to the door to see if they could hear anything before someone decided to knock.
Panda rolled closest to the bed, a little styrofoam take-out container clutched in his paws.
"Shirokuma! You're sick!" he cried and proffered the box in the polar bear's direction.
"I am," he said carefully, still very confused.
"Bamboo is the best thing to eat when you're sick!" he added as Shirokuma took the box and opened it to find just that. A pile of bamboo.
"Thank you?" he said, feeling that, though he wouldn't eat it, it was still a big gesture for Panda to give up bamboo for someone else.
"I brought fish stew," Penguin said matter-of-factly, placing a plastic container of delicious-smelling stew on his bedside table.
"Thank you," Shirokuma said, feeling much more genuinely thankful for that particular gift. "But-"
"I brought whiskey," he heard a rumble from the doorway, and all the pieces finally fell together. Grizzly had let them in, of course. He started chuckling, peals of laughter fading into a coughing fit after a while, but once his throat cleared, he was still grinning widely.
They all piled downstairs, Penguin carefully gripping the railing and Panda half-rolling down the steps. Shirokuma attempted to be a good host, wandering into the kitchen to put the kettle on, but he found himself quickly shooed under his expansive kotatsu to rest. Grizzly, of all people, set to work on the kettle, and after a while ambled out of the kitchen with steaming mugs of tea for everyone. Shirokuma was delightfully surprised that he could actually make a decent hot beverage. And not a drop of alcohol in sight!
Once they were all settled, Shirokuma ate his stew, graciously donating 'his' bamboo to a hungry Panda. Even with a sniffle still in his nose and a crackle in his voice, he felt so much better with his friends there.
-----
He felt worlds better in the morning and was well enough to open the shop. The steam from the espresso machine drifted up in curls in the cold morning air. The calm quiet of the shop comforted him as he swept up, organized menus, and cleaned counters. As he readied the drip coffee for the day, he reflected on the events of the day before and smiled. The jingle of the door signaled his first customer of the day, and he was happy and ready to get back to work.